


All's Fair

by Merixcil



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, canon typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: Pink doesn't feel comfortable socialising with the rest of Joe's team, but he plays along just as well as he can.
Relationships: Mr Blonde & Mr Pink (Reservoir Dogs)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	All's Fair

Where the fuck exactly does Joe find these guys, that’s what Pink wants to know. Third time this week they’ve wound up in a dive bar together after make mediocre progress on planning this here jewel heist they’re supposedly gonna be performing next week. It ain’t a problem for guys to get to know each other before they do a job, as far as he’s concerned, but doing it in public seems like a pretty good way for the cops to link them all together should one of them get caught.

“I thought the point was we were supposed to be strangers to each other.” Pink nudges Joe in the side over the top of his whiskey.

“You got a problem with a night of free booze?” Joe growls back.

“I have a problem with being in close proximity to a bunch of drunk guys who I’m conspiring to break the law with.”

“Scared you’re gonna have one too many and start handing out blowjobs?” Nice Guy Eddie laughs loudest at his own stupid joke but Brown’s not far behind. Orange practically has to stick his fingers down his throat to get a chuckle out. Faggot. Probably. Not that Pink needs that kind of distraction.

Pink stares down Nice Guy Eddie. “I ain’t scared of shit, ‘cept an arrest warrant with my name on it.” Pause, gesticulate. Command the conversation. “Though I am a little concerned as to what the gentlemen here might let slip under the influence.”

“You planning on letting something slip?” White cocks an eyebrow, smiling ever so slightly though it’s impossible to say if it meets his eyes. Guy’s fucking unreadable.

“Of course not. But I can only reasonably trust myself to keep my trap shut.”

“Well, how about this: You trust yourself and I’ll trust myself and all us guys can have a little faith in ourselves and take some of the burden off you. That sound good?”

“Not really.”

“Kid.” Joe lays a heavy hand on Pink’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a good judge of character. Everyone in here’s gonna keep it professional, right boys?”

Everyone nods, smirking into their drinks like schoolboys who think this is some sort of game. Pink does his best to believe that the sinking sensation in his gut is not an indication that the evening is liable to go south.

“I’m thinking we could lighten Brown’s pockets.” Blonde says over his umpteenth beer of the night.

He’s good at this, a real heavyweight. Pink’s been on cola since nine to keep a handle on his self-control but the others aren’t so careful. Nice Guy’s a rowdy drunk, half way to a fight. Joe’s generous and buying everyone and their mother a round. Brown’s a disaster, while White seems to get happier and angrier simultaneously. Orange gas barely said shit but the way he’s been flashing bedroom eyes at any guy that comes within ten feet of him suggests that he’s a horny drunk.

The others are back at the booth, while Pink and Blonde top up their drinks at the bar. Pink watches as Brown manages to slam his hand down on the table and poke himself in the eye with the same motion. He shrugs. “What did you have in mind?”

“Nothin’ too complicated. I’d do it myself, but it’s easier with a point guy.”

“What, you can’t handle a pick-pocketing job without backup?”

“Course I can.” Blonde doesn’t laugh. “But hey, I figured I should try to make a good impression on my fellow lowlifes.”

“I don’t need you making an impression on me.” Pink watches for a minute as Brown nearly falls off his chair, laughing. “I’ll do it.”

The plan is simple, and they’ve done it enough times solo that it barely needs discussing. Pink wanders back towards the table, trying his hand at a gentle swagger and wishing he hadn’t when he feels how stiff his legs are underneath him. “Yo, Brown. C’mere a sec.”

Brown staggers to his feet. His fucking mouth won’t stop moving, rattling off some bullshit theory about how Prince is a cocksucker. He grins giddily at Pink, curling his mouth into a sneer that has no heart in it.

Pink smiles at him, letting his eyes flicker off to the rest of the group to ensure he’s got their attention. “That’s a nice jacket.” He runs a hand down the lapel of the green velvet monstrosity Brown has on.

“Any excuse to get your hands on some mancake, right Pink?” Nice Guy jeers.

Pink ignores him, making a show of checking the lining of the jacket before hooking one hand into the top pocket and using it as leverage to push Brown back.

Too far gone to realise he’s been pushed, Brown stumbles back, tripping over his own feet till Blonde catches him under the armpits. “Woah there, big guy.”

Blonde’s a fucking genius at this shit. Pink knows what he’s looking for and still barely sees the hand move in to swipe Brown’s wallet. It’s over in an instant, and then they’re sat back at the table, no one any the wiser to what they’ve just done.

“Nice work.” Pink mutters as they disperse for the evening.

Blonde shrugs. “Easy work.”

“How much did he have on him?”

Blonde pulls the stack of notes from his pocket, having returned the wallet by pretending to find it on the floor when Brown next dragged his ass up to the bar. He counts through the quickly. “Just north of five hundred.”

“Nice. Not bad for grunt work.”

Pink holds out a hand for his cut, which on reflection he doesn’t even know for sure is coming to him. He’s not stupid enough to fight Blonde for it, but he did do half the work.

As Blonde starts to count out the money, Pink’s insides shrivel. He can see it now, Blonde the reputable criminal, a fair-minded guy. He doesn’t need to know that about the guy, he shouldn’t have come out tonight.

“Here you go.” Blonde pushes twenty dollars into Pink’s hand.

It would have been easier if he’d given him nothing, no cut is always better than an uneven share. “What’s this shit?”

“Your cut.”

“My cut? Bullshit. My cut is half the fucking take.”

“I don’t see how.”

“I did half the work!”

“The work pays twenty dollars per gig, plus tips.” Blonde’s smug smile is plenty genuine as he tucks the rest of the money back into his pocket. “And as I recall, you don’t do tips.”

Rooted to the spot and unable to think of a comeback pithy enough to save face, Pink watches him go. He holds his hand up in the shape of a pistol and imagines what it would be like to shoot him in the back of the head.

He should be so lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the [Reservoir Dogs kink meme](https://resdog-kink.dreamwidth.org/)
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://jeffersonhairpie.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/chadfuture_)
> 
> Comments are love!


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